Never Say Never (4 page)

“Okay, welcome aboard, Mrs. Halloran.”

The young man smiled at her and motioned her to step to the next station. There all the packages had to go on a conveyor belt and through an X-ray machine, much like the ones at the airport.

Gareth leaned closer. “Before nine-eleven, we didn't have to do all this. You go on past the machine, and I'll put the bags on the belt. You can watch them come through.”

Charlotte did as he said. When they boarded the elevator, no one joined them.

“I don't usually go to passengers' cabins. Will you be all right with these packages?”

“Of course.” She started taking them from him, wedging them under her arms. “It will feel good to clean up and change clothes.”

The car stopped, but Gareth pushed the button that kept the door closed. “There are elevators closer to the front of the ship. Please meet me at those on deck seven in an hour.”

Something in his tone touched Charlotte. “Okay. I'll be there.”

❧

Gareth paced from his apartment to the elevator and back. Through the open door to Homer's quarters, which shared a wall with his, Gareth saw his first mate look up from the newspaper he was reading.

“Are you nervous?” His friend's voice called.

Before he could formulate an answer, the bell on the elevator down the hall dinged. He turned and hurried toward it, reaching the small lobby as the doors slid open.

Charlotte stepped out and looked around. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. “There you are.” She came toward him, wearing another of those soft cloudy dresses that swirled around her trim figure. “Where are we going?”

He ushered her down the corridor in front of him. “To the captain's quarters. I thought you might like to see them.”

She stopped just before she reached the two side-by-side open doors. She slowly turned and looked stricken. “I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

The whispered words cut to Gareth's heart. What did she think he wanted?

“This must be the lovely Mrs. Halloran.” Homer leaned against his doorjamb, and Charlotte glanced toward him. “I'm sure the captain was planning to introduce us, but I couldn't wait.” He took one of Charlotte's hands. “Homer Wilson, first mate, at your service, ma'am.” He gave a slight bow.

Gareth moved around them in the narrow hallway. “I wanted you to see where we live the three months we are on the ship.”

Charlotte pulled her hand from Homer's, and none too soon, Gareth thought.

“Three months?”

Gareth took her elbow and pulled her toward the living room in his suite. “Yes, the first mate and I spend three months on the ship, then three months at home.”

A tall woman with straight brown hair came to the door of Homer's cabin, drying her hands on a towel. “This time Homer is staying six months, so I came to be with him for a while.” She dropped the towel on a chair near the door and stuck out her hand. “I'm Marilyn Wilson, and I've wanted to meet you ever since Homer told me about you.”

Gareth cringed. He hoped that didn't scare Charlotte off. “Come in. I want to give her a tour.” After looking out the windows of the living room, which spread across half the front of the ship and down the side, he led the group into his office.

“What are all those charts on the wall?” Charlotte walked over and squinted as if she were trying to read the tiny print. “Do you use them for navigation?”

Gareth moved closer behind her. “Most of that is done using computers and satellites, but I still like to have the charts to look at. On some of the ships I've captained, they have kept us out of a few jams.”

Marilyn stood at the door. “I've made us some refreshments, if you have time to visit.” They went next door where a tray of desserts and coffee sat on the table in front of the couch.

After they had eaten and chatted for a few minutes, Charlotte asked, “Do you get many foreign passengers on the cruises? I had breakfast this morning with a woman from Germany.”

“Yes, cruises are popular with people from all around the world.” Gareth turned toward Homer. “Do you remember how many countries are represented this time?”

“I was just looking at the list.” He rubbed his forehead above his eyes. “Let's see, there are some from Brazil, Mexico, Germany, Japan, Canada, and the Philippines. That's just the passengers. If you look closely at each crewmember's name badge, you can see where they are from. Over forty countries, I think.”

❧

When Charlotte arrived back at her cabin, Chelle stood holding another white envelope. “We've been invited to eat at the captain's table again this evening. I thought he invited different people each night.”

Charlotte didn't like her tone, but she didn't want to spoil the day with another disagreement. “Maybe not. How was your day?”

All during the time they got ready to go to dinner, Chelle regaled her with tales of the ruins, the swimming at Xel-Ha, the people she met, and the crewmembers who accompanied them. Seeing her so happy gladdened Charlotte's heart.

When they arrived in the dining room, the only person they knew was the captain, and he saved places for Charlotte and Chelle beside him. Once again, the variety of food, and its quality and uniqueness, astounded Charlotte. The kitchens had to be large to accommodate all the chefs and helpers. Maybe she would ask Gareth the next time they were alone together.

This time, all the people lingered over dessert and coffee, sharing about how they spent the day. Another newlywed couple ate dinner with them, and they drank a whole bottle of champagne. Charlotte wasn't sure she wanted Chelle being around them, but they left the table before anyone else.

“Mother, isn't it time we went to our cabins to get ready for the show?” Chelle pushed her chair back and stood.

Charlotte did the same. “Okay. We can go.” She turned to those still seated at the table and Gareth who stood behind his chair. “We've enjoyed this time with you, haven't we, Chelle?”

The noncommittal teenage grunt and look in her eyes warned Charlotte that her daughter was upset about something. She was sure she'd find out soon enough.

She was right. The cabin door barely closed behind them when Chelle turned on her. “What's going on, Mother?” She didn't sound like the whiny teenager who could stretch the word Mom so far. Charlotte wasn't ready for her daughter to sound so grown up.

“I'm not sure what you're talking about.” Charlotte reached for the itinerary for the next day, hoping Chelle would take the hint that she didn't want to discuss it.

“You and that captain. He couldn't take his eyes off you, and you were eating up the attention.” She spat the words as if they tasted bad.

They poured over Charlotte like bitter acid. Did the other people see it that way? Had she been indiscreet?

“Gar–Captain Van den Hout was a perfect host and a gentleman.”

Chelle stomped across the floor then kicked off her platform sandals. Charlotte hoped the sound didn't carry to the deck below them. “You are so naive, Mother. That man has the hots for you.”

Charlotte couldn't believe what her daughter had said. “Chelle, where did you hear things like that?”

“I am not a baby, and I know what's going on.”

Charlotte had a hard time holding her anger in check. “Nothing's going on.”

“How could you forget Daddy like that?” Chelle threw herself down on the bed and sobs tore through her. After a moment, she asked without turning her head, “Don't you love him anymore?”

Charlotte sat beside her and reached to touch her, but Chelle moved away. “Of course, I love your father. You're reading things into the situation that aren't there.”

Chelle got up and started undressing. “I don't want to talk about this. I'm tired. . .I'm going to bed.”

“What about the show?”

“You go if you want to.” Chelle's petulant tone hurt her mother. “I don't want to anymore.”

While Chelle moved around the cabin throwing things down and jerking her pajamas on, Charlotte quietly prepared to retire, too. Long after soft snores came from her daughter, Charlotte lay in her bed thinking. What was she doing? This man did disturb her, but her daughter had not gotten over losing Philip, and neither had she. Time with Gareth was courting danger. Danger to their family and danger to her heart. She was not going to spend any more time with the man.

Four

When Chelle woke up, Charlotte was thankful her daughter's mood had lightened. Chelle was so much like her daddy, who ignored problems, thinking they would just go away. Charlotte decided to implement her plan to spend quality time with her daughter. While Chelle carefully applied more makeup than she usually wore, Charlotte perused the list of excursions. She knew she should call her daughter on the excessive makeup, but she didn't want to ruin the day so early.

“We've waited pretty late to buy our excursion tickets for today. What do you want to do? Maybe they'll still have a few available.”

Chelle turned around. “I want to go see the stingrays. Maybe go snorkeling with them.”

Charlotte picked up the phone and punched the numbers for the purser's desk. “Do you still have tickets for the Stingray and Snorkeling excursion? . . . You do? We need two of them. I'll come up and get them before breakfast.”

“Let me run this through the computer.” The voice sounded like the cute young woman Charlotte met when she got their earlier tickets.

The smile fell off Chelle's face. “M–o–m! We don't have to do everything together.”

Here we go again.
Charlotte covered the mouthpiece of the phone, but kept it near her ear. “I thought we'd do something together today.”

Chelle put down her mascara with more force than necessary. “We can have breakfast and dinner together.” She picked
up lip gloss and started unscrewing the thin, shiny tube.
“Maybe we can go to the show tonight.”

She left unsaid the reason they didn't go last night, and Charlotte didn't want to bring that subject up either.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Halloran, but we only have one ticket for that excursion. Would you want to order tickets to something else?”

Maybe if she gave on this one, the peace would be worth it. “Okay, we'll take that one. How about another ticket to the Butterfly farm and Nautilus mini-submarine?”

“Yes, actually we have two left for that trip. Do you want both of them?”

Chelle watched her mother, waiting for her to continue, almost as if she heard the other end of the phone conversation.

“We'll take one of each.” Charlotte watched her daughter let out the breath she had been holding.

“We can have them sent to your room. They'll be there when you return from breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

Chelle's grin rewarded Charlotte for the decision she made. Charlotte replaced the earpiece of the phone and returned her smile. “So where do you want to have breakfast?” Maybe when they both got back from the trips, they could do something together on the ship.

❧

A spectacular tropical garden inhabited by butterflies from around the world spread out before Charlotte. Sights and smells overwhelmed her senses. Color bursts of fluttering wings that settled on delicate blossoms then lifted off to find another resting place provided a kaleidoscopic atmosphere. The heady essence of orchids, birds of paradise, and other exotic flowers created a perfume unparalleled, even by the most expensive names in fragrance. God's blending was perfect. Charlotte wished they could bottle it and sell it. She would choose it as her signature perfume.

While she enjoyed the lavishness of the setting, she forgot to feel lonely. Everyone else on the excursion had one or more partners to share it with, so riding on the bus across the island, she felt alone. When she boarded the return bus, the loneliness fell on her again like a wet blanket, making the hot air hard to breathe. She didn't even want to think about what the cruise would be like if Philip were with her. She would not go there. But sharing this with her daughter, or her own best friend back home, would have made the day even better.

When they reached the submarine, Charlotte hung back, letting the groups be seated together. She'd just take whatever place was left. After sinking onto the thinly padded seat covered with plastic upholstery, she felt as if she were taking part in some science fiction book or movie. She always liked reading Jules Verne when she was younger, and this submarine felt like something out of one of his books.

“We'll leave in just a few minutes,” said the perky young man who would serve as their guide. He held a clipboard on which he had ticked off the name of each person who boarded. “We have one more passenger who is running a little late.”

Charlotte had counted everyone on the bus over to the gardens and on the way over here from there. Maybe it went back to the times she served as a room mother and accompanied field trips. Counting children kept them from the catastrophe of leaving one behind. Everyone had been on the second bus. She looked around and counted the people in the sub again. They were all here. She started once again, in case she miscounted. Before she finished, a man in navy shorts and a white polo shirt with thin navy stripes across his muscular chest climbed down the ladder and slipped into the seat beside her.

“Hello, Charlotte. Surprised to see me?”

Surprised didn't even describe this feeling that coursed through her. Happy. . .unsettled. . .she could think of a lot of words that better explained the shiver that skittered down her spine.

“Capt–Gareth, are you taking time off again today?” Of course he was, or he wouldn't be here beside her. So much for her decision not to spend time with him again.

❧

“Yes.” What else could he add to that?

The guide closed the hatch, and the sub pulled away from the dock, slowly sinking below the surface of the water. The young man started his spiel. Gareth had heard it all before. Personally, he preferred floating on top of the waves in a larger craft to being held captive below the surface in this thing, but the chance to spend more time with Charlotte made the trip worth it.

He watched expressions chase themselves across her face. It was like watching a movie, and he recognized each of her feelings. Something bothered her, and he wanted to find out what. He felt a strong desire to fix it for her. Maybe it had something to do with Chelle. She hadn't seemed very happy at dinner last night. Had something happened after they left the dining room? Something that kept the two women from attending the show? Gareth had gone to the lighting booth in the theater, hoping to catch a glimpse of Charlotte, but he couldn't see her sitting anywhere in the large room. He wanted to watch them as they enjoyed the unusual act.

Charlotte's gaze stayed glued to the guide. She obediently looked each direction he indicated, searching the ocean floor for the items the man referenced. Finally, she peeked sideways, up at Gareth's face. He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He shouldn't have made Doug tell him where she was going. Although Gareth had missed the butterflies, he'd made it to the sub.

“I'm glad to see you again.” Her whispered words pulled him from his thoughts.

Drawn into the blue depths, he couldn't take his eyes off of hers. “Me, too.” Once again, the guide's voice intruded, and Gareth glanced toward the window. “Look over there, Charlotte.” He reached around her and pointed to a rough, bumpy lump surrounded by waving, wide-leafed aquatic plants on the ocean floor. “There's a giant conch.” She peered down, and he left his arm across the back of the seat they shared.

“My grandmother had one of those shells she used as a doorstop.” Her voice contained a wistful note.

“The island natives make a wonderful soup with the meat from conchs.”

She turned startled eyes toward him. “They eat them?”

“They're just another shellfish. Most things living in the oceans are edible.”

The guide pointed out a shipwreck half buried in the coral reef. He spouted the history of the wooden ship and its occupants. Charlotte sat spellbound, taking it all in. Maybe she was as interested in history as Gareth was. That would be something else they could discuss when they spent time together.

After they reached Cheeseburger Reef, a guide swimming in the water fed the fish right outside their window. The multi-colored fish crowding close to the window held Charlotte's complete attention. This allowed Gareth to study her at leisure. Long lashes fringed her bright blue eyes, which sparkled with excitement. The sun had kissed her skin enough to give it a golden glow, but without burning it. She looked vital and alive. With her hair once again pulled into that short ponytail, she could pass as a slightly older sister of Chelle's. That question he asked her the first night didn't sound so lame now.

❧

When the majority of the bright fish moved down the side of the vessel, Charlotte realized that Gareth was watching her instead of the sea creatures. A blush warmed her cheeks. Maybe he would just think she was sunburned or overheated. She was overheated, but it wasn't from the sun. It was from his presence so close to her.
What am I doing, responding to a man like this? It must be the romantic atmosphere of a cruise.
When they returned to Bedford, hopefully she would regain her sanity. She glanced up at Gareth.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Charlotte?” His crisp Oxford English contained a hint of another accent, probably Dutch.

“It's wonderful.” She picked up her tote bag from the floor and held it in her lap. “I didn't realize how much is buried on the floor of the Caribbean.”

“There's history all around you wherever you are.” His smile made his eyes twinkle. A lock of curly blond hair had fallen against the top of his forehead, giving him a rakish air. “What eras are most interesting to you?”

His question helped her relax. Talking about the past was a safe way to spend the rest of the afternoon.

When they arrived back at the dock, Gareth helped her up, and they were the first to exit the underwater vessel since they were closest to the ladder. A taxi waited beside the bus, with its engine running. Gareth took her hand and pulled her toward the car. Although most of the vehicles on the island had their windows open, the driver had the windows rolled up. Charlotte settled gladly into the welcome coolness. The ride back to the ship only took a few minutes.

They arrived at the same time as the tender that took the snorkelers to Stingray City. The passengers on that boat were stepping up on the dock when the taxi stopped at the end of the paved lane that led to the ship. Charlotte glanced toward the dock in time to see Chelle. Although she had one of the large towels provided by the cruise line stuffed into her beach bag, she should have been using it to cover the tiny bikini Charlotte had forbidden her to wear.

Charlotte stiffened. Gareth noticed, because he turned questioning eyes her direction. She didn't want to pull him into the discussion, so she tried to relax. It took all the effort she could muster. Gareth looked past her toward the entrance to the ship. Charlotte hoped he didn't see her daughter flaunting herself in front of those young men on her excursion. Just wait until she got to the cabin.

Once again, they had to go through security. By the time the snorkelers were out of the way, the other people from the Butterfly and Nautilus trip were in line ahead of Charlotte.

“That was fun.” She tried to sound bright and carefree.

From the expression on Gareth's face, it didn't work, but he didn't question her. At least it didn't take long to get everything scanned, since they hadn't been shopping. When Charlotte picked up her tote bag and turned around, the other passengers were gone. Gareth walked her to the elevator.

“Charlotte, I look forward to the next time we are together.”

She nodded. The warmth in his eyes couldn't thaw the cold knot that had settled in her chest. How she longed to be able to relax and enjoy her short time with this man, but when she got to the cabin, she would have to confront Chelle.

After sliding her key card into the slot, Charlotte pushed the door open. Chelle was taking a shower. Usually, she left the clothes she removed all over the floor when she did that, but even though Charlotte looked all around, she couldn't see the offending bathing suit. She slipped her tote bag onto the table and sat on the end of the couch.

What am I going to do about Chelle? I can't let her think that what she's doing is okay. I hope I can keep from losing my temper.

The water shut off, and Charlotte leaned her head back. Tension gripped her neck and shoulders. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. Even manually trying to relax each muscle group didn't work. When she moved to the next, the last one tightened again.

Charlotte got up and paced to the window. The steward had pulled the heavy drapes to the sides when he cleaned the room, but Charlotte took hold of the sheer curtain, which didn't part in the middle, and pushed it to one side. She stared at the end of the island visible from their stateroom. Life out there didn't touch what was happening in here. People went about their business, completely disconnected from the passengers on the cruise ship. The tourists were only a way to make a living for most of the natives.

The bathroom door opened. “Mom, you're back.”

Charlotte didn't turn around. She kept looking at the tropical paradise in front of her. “Where is it, Chelle?”

“Where's what?” She sounded as if she didn't know what her mom was talking about. She probably didn't know that Charlotte had seen her.

Finally, Charlotte turned. “The bikini. Where is it?”